The Bee
by CheeseyWheeley
Summary: A stranger enters Riften, and Marcurio knows that this will be his last night in the inn for a while. / I've noticed I distinct lack of good f!dragonborn x Marcurio fics around here lately so I decided if I want something done right, I'll have to do it myself. no real upload schedule. everything is written on my phone so please have mercy. rated M for language, fluff, smut?(maybe)
1. Chapter One

Marcurio could tell from the moment he saw her that he wouldn't be spending another night in this godforsaken inn. He watch from his usual rickety bench against a wall as she plopped into one of the equally rickety barstools. She looked young, even through her apparent exhaustion. Probably to young to be traveling on her own. She carried a Warhammer that looked as if it weighted twice what she did, and some of the dinkiest looking heavy armor the mage had ever seen, even while living in this armpit of a city.

He continued to watch her, somewhat creepily, as she order her supper. When he figured she had made herself someone comfortable, he stood from his stool, hearing the ear-splitting creakiness of the wooden floor below him.

"Well well!" He announced just as she had opened her mouth to shove in a loaf of bread. "Look what the horker dragged in. You look like someone who my service could be of use to. Wha'd'ya say, 500 gold and you'll-"

"Are all the prostitutes around here this pushy?" She interrupted and he sputtered to a stop. "And are they all men?"

He felt his cheeks light up as everyone in the bar started cackling.

"Um," He struggled to regain his composure "y-you seem to misunderstand. I only mean that you may want to consider a traveling partner."

The stranger sipped her mead, but he could tell she was listening.

"The wilds of Skyrim are full of all sorts of nasty things. With a master of the arcane at your side, you'll have nothing to worry about."

She slowly set down her mug and turned to face him. Her green eyes met his brown ones before traveling down his figure and back up. He suddenly felt very self conscious. He too the opportunity to analyze her as she was to him.

The armor was somehow even more rusty looking up close. She had blond hair, just long enough to brush the shoulder of that gross metal. Contrasting her unsightly garb, her face was rather unblemished, although very tired looking. She still looked very young up close, and rather attractive. Much preferable to the crusty dusty rouges he usually paired up with, who thought personal hygiene meant spitting on your hand and rubbing it into the face a bit to lessen the appearance of the weeks worth of filth.

She finally gave a small shrug. "Alright," she dropped a bag of gold on the counter. "You're hired. How quickly do you think you can get me to Windhelm?"

The mage, despite never having been to Windhelm in his life, replied "Well, it's only a day's journey," and heard at least two people behind him scoff.

"What's your name, mage?" Said the pretty traveler.

He picked up the bag of coins from the counter, feeling giddy at the weight of the 500 septims. "Marcurio, from the imperial city, at your service."

"Beo, from... Nowhere important." She paused. "We leave tomorrow, first thing in the morning. Try not to be late." She smiled for the first time in the night showing her white teeth, and extended a hand for him to shake. He shook.

"I look forward to working with you."


	2. Chapter two

The next morning Marcurio woke slowly, groggily, and somewhat grumpily. He had had one too many bottles of mead that night in celebration of his newfound employment. He was in less that perfect condition to go tromping around in search of Windhelm all day.

He had pretty close to no idea where he was meant to go. North someplace, he assumed, as any farther south and they would end up in Cyrodiil. He was sure there would be plenty of roadsigns that would help prevent him from looking like a fool in from of his brand new boss.

He sighed dramatically as he sat up in bed, ignoring how dizzy that left him. He pulled on his robes and boots and whatever else mages wear and stomped off out of his room, hoping the girl was still in bed so he could have breakfast before they left, perhaps even glance over a map.

He sat himself down at the bar and tried not to be too satisfied with the way Keerava snarled under her breath.

"Shouldn't you be gone by now?" The lizard's raspy voice grated against Marcurio's harldy awake and mildly hungover ears.

"Pass me something to eat will you."

She gritted her teeth in disdain. "Your new sucker left without you an hour ago, why is your butt still sitting at my bar?"

He shrugged. He had already been paid, what did it matter to him if she actually decided to use him or not? Keerava practical growled at his flippancy. She wanted him out of her in as much as he wanted to be out. Times when he had jobs were always far more exhilarating and satisfying than sitting on that dusty old bench day after day. He couldn't rightly leave on his own, he had nowhere to go. Besides perhaps bar-hopping at inns that would be far less tolerate of his freeloading that Keerava was. Despite her bad attitude, she never actively kicked him out, even after he was out of money. Perhaps he could be more appreciative, but as he watched her idly humming in a way that sounded like a horker making love to a cheese grater, he figured it was unlikely.

Mercifully before that image could root itself to far into his brain, the front door swung open wildly and banged against the wall, making both the imperial and the lizard jump. Had the mage been sitting on his usual people-watching bench, he might have been smacked by that violent door. He wondered if maybe he should find a new spot.

The perpetrator behind this hearty door slamming was none other that the missing adventurer herself, carrying a large sack that was full of something making the sound of metal scraping against metal. A sound which felt just lovely against the mage's post-drunken skull.

The blond wandered in under the weight of this bag in a set or everyday clothes, much different that the chunky armor she was donning the night before. The lack of thick rust covering her frame reveiled her to be much stronger looking that the wizard had thought. Perhaps she can use that Warhammer on her own, he amused himself. She had a thin waist, like she was pulling it in with one of those torture devices women seem so fond of -corsets, Marcurio thought. She had slightly broad shoulders for a woman, but it was offset by the hips that rivaled their width and thighs that spilled over the edge of the stool as she sat next to him. Her breast were-

Now, that's quite enough, Marcurio thought, and looked away to maintain his gentlemanly dignity.

Unfortunately though it seemed that Keerava had noticed this unsavory staring and shot him a knowing look that made a shiver traverse his spine. God he couldn't stand that nosy lady.

"I almost thought you'd planned in sleeping all day. I've already gotten all my shopping done. Managed to wrangle a deal out of that rude lady who runs that little armor stall." She said rather cheerily. She seemed in a better mood than the night before, and the deep bags under her eyes had faded somewhat significantly, though they were still noticeable.

"Easy on my door next time or I'll have you paying to replace it." Keerava injected.

As the barkeep turned her back, Marcurio saw the pretty Nord girl mock Keerava's patronizing. He started to think he could really get to like her.

He tapped his feet a bit as he thought of how to remove the silence. "You must enjoy shopping." He offered, gesturing to her purchase on the floor between them.

"Actually," she pulled the bag up to her lap, "I enjoy taking things from idiots for less that what I could sell them for elsewhere. Great way to make some gold here and there. But this time was for necessity, not profit."

Out of the bag she yanked a shiney piece of yellowy metal that the mage eventually figured out to be a chest plate. He was glad to see she was replacing that tin can she walked in with, it seemed more likely to do her harm than anything they could find outside the gates. He looked down at his own attire and wondered if he should invest in a new set of robes. These weren't in particularly bad shape. A few fraying threads here and there. But the glow from the enchantment seemed to have faded a bit over the years, yet perhaps that was just from lack of use. The last time he actually had to fire off any Sparks was when a thief had tried to make off with the few coins he had left between jobs. He silently hoped that their quest wouldn't put them in the way of too much harm.


	3. Chapter Three

Marcurio stood approximately twelve feet away from the front entrance of Riften and began to feel very regretful that he did not look at a map before starting this adventure. And adventure it would be.

"If Windhelm is... North," he pointed up. " and Riften's gates point...West," he pointed to his right with the other hand, forming an L shape with his arms. "Then eventually, we will have to turn... That way?" He hesitantly turned his body toward the treeline to his left and pointed forwards. Yeah. That sounds like it almost makes some sense.

Decently satisfied with his logic, he spun around one more to look for Beo. She was behind him, in the middle of what seemed to be a heated debate with a more or less innocent gate guard.

Eventually the nervous guard shakily grabbed for the Hilton of this little iron sword and she felt it was probably better to let whatever she had been rambling about die. She then turned on her armor-clad heels towards the wizard.

"Uh-"

"Let's get out of here before they ban me from the city. Too many good business prospects here to be kicked out now."

"What did you say to him?" He asked as they started off down the one road out of town. At least there was no guesswork yet.

"He tried to make me pay some sort of 'visiters tax' when I came in last night. Thought I'd give him a piece of my mind. I don't like theives."

Marcurio shrugged. "It seems you've come to the wrong city then."

She returned his strug with one of her own, only more dramatic as if to mock him. "Riften doesn't seem that bad. The corruption seems to almost bring people together in a way."

Silence fell asleep Marcurio tried to figure out what she meant by that. However his thoughts of pondering were soon replaced by ones of panic as the reached a fork in the road.

His unrest didn't go unnoticed. Beo was forced to resist the urge to smack herself on the forehead when the realization that this dumb bastard has no idea where he's going finally hit her. She had wandered into the forest with a strange older man who can make lightning come out of his fingers. Brilliant.

Before she was able to express her mild irritation at the wizard, however, something exploded out if the brush behind them and began to attack the Nord girl.

Marcurio started charging a spell, but it would bever be fired, and before he even felt the previously farmiliar crackle of electricity on his fingers, Be had spun to face the attacker, grabbed his wrists and pushed him to the ground. She sat with her armored knee pressing between his shoulder blades, holding his arms behind his head with his now abandoned dagger laying beside them.

He was a redguard man, wearing a suit of black and red and a hood that had now fallen back to reveal his face. He looked rather pitiful pinned to the floor that way, the look of terror obvious on his face.

The girl on the other hand looked totally unamused, and asked firmly "Who sent you this time?"

Marcurio found himself swallowing hard at the sight before him. She was rather frightening. Rather... Sexy, overpowering someone who looked bigger than her so easily. The mage found himself walking a thin line between terror a d arousal

The would-be killer refused to answer. Beo, not having all the time in the world, decided to just end the poor fool and get on with it. She took the conveniently located knife from the floor and stuck it in the poor man's neck before releasing his arms and stepping away. This tipped the scales heavily into the terrifying part of Marcurio"s perception of the situation.

The Nord picked through the dead mans pockets and located the paper she was searching for. "Dark brotherhood." She sighed. This was not the first assassination attempt this week, nor did she think it would be the last. She just hoped that poor incompetent mage would be to harshly traumatized.

Speaking of the poor, incompetent, terrified, turned on mage, he had retreated to the other side of the road looking like a frightened squirrel.

Beo looked him in the face before exclaiming in exasperation: "You have no idea where you're trying to go do you."


	4. Chapter four

"You just murdered a guy!"

"He was trying to murder me!"

"Why?!"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Well, who did you piss off?"

"I piss most people off!"

Beginning to regret his choice to allow this crazy woman to employ him, Marcurio looked at the freshly dead would-be assassin and fought the urge to be sick.

"This is the third one in the last two weeks." Beo began to rummage around in the dead guy's pockets until she found what she was looking for. "They all have kill orders on me, that all say the exact same thing." She pulled two ratty pieces of paper out of her pocket (what kind if armor has pockets? Marcurio wondered) and added the one she'd taken off of the dude that was bleeding out in the middle of the road to the pile, before stuffing all three back into her mysterious armor pocket.

Marcurio began to hold his nose at the sight of the corpse, even though it was hours off from actually smelling bad. "Whab do e do wib it now?"

The Nord shrugged. "I dunno. Usually I just leave it."

"Leab it?!" Beo pushed the wizards wrist and he let to of his nose. "You can't just leave a dead body in the middle of the road!"

"Sure you can. I'm sure the wolves will appreciate it. Or the trolls. Or just about anything else. Like spiders." She wiggled her fingers creepily, like a spider. "Besides, do you have a better idea? Specifically one that won't involve me in a courtroom."

While Marcurio struggled to come up with something, Be turned and kept walking, picking one of the roads at random, since it was apparent that her wizard escort was just as clueless as she was.

"Wait!" Exclaimed the incompetent fool, inching around the body and hurrying to catch up. "Where are you going?"

"I have no idea, I thought that's what you were here for! But apparently I spend 500 septims on a travel buddy."

Marcurio looked ashamed. "Well, ya know, jobs are tight, and that inn is not the funnest place to be all day." He shrugged. "And, I figured you might be in need of some help-"

The wizard was stopped in his tracks as he saw something wizz in front of his eyes . Following it, he saw a knife firmly lodged into the tree on the side of the road. He looked over to Beo, fearful and confused, to find her still staring straight ahead, one hand raised like she had thrown something.

She smirked, "Still think I need your help?"

Marcurio shook his head, slightly to quickly to be considered casually. "No, now I just think you're crazy."

She laughed, retrieved her blade from the innocent tree, and they continued on their way with the power of random guesswork and hope.


	5. chapter five

Eventually, the pair did in fact get to the city. After a few hours of taking random turns and becoming general pretty lost, they stumbled upon and small khajiit caravan. The poor unfortunate travelers asked the merchants for directions, much to Beo's distaste. After a bit of back tracking and even more stomping through the woods filled with complaining from both parties, the stood in front of the bridge to the city. It was rather late in the day, the sun was nearly setting.

Marcurio looked around at the huge bridge and city gates. This place was nothing like Riften. It was much bigger, far colder, and made of much more stone. It was a fair big grander, nothing close to the Imperial city where Marcurio spent the majority of his young life, but much better than the slum he'd been staying in the past few years.

They sauntered in past the huge gates tiredly and were relieved to find that the inn was the first thing they saw.

Their relief was quickly stifled however when they heard yelling to their right, less than fifty feet away. Marcurio listed his head to assess the commotion when it was pushed back down to face the floor.

"Don't get involved," Beo hissed under her breath and tried to pull him forwards towards the inn.

Forever the meddler, Marcurio ducked under her arm and stood to listen to the commotion. Two Nord men were harassing one dark elf woman in the middle of the street, as if they could find nothing better to do. Exclamations of "Skyrim belongs to the Nords" and "Get out if our city, scum" rang out against the stone city walls.

Marcurio felt himself get angry for the woman. What if an elf tried to say something like that to a Nord? Why, they'd laugh in the elf's face. But here was the elf woman, struggling to keep her prideful look as she looked down her hooked nose at her harassers with tears in her eyes threatening to spill. He couldn't stand the sight.

"Damn racists." He said as he marched in their direction. He heard Beo protest and felt her fingers graze his swinging arms.

Something had to be done, and it seemed like every other milk drinker in this city was content with lowering their eyes and walking on. "Excuse me." He said to the men. They ignored him.

"E-excuse me!" He said, louder this time. They turned to face him, and the wizard suddenly saw how much bigger the Nord losers were than him. He tugged on his sleeve to cover his boney arms.

"Do you have a problem?" One of the muscly guys said.

The wizard gulped. "I-.I don't like your attitude." He heard his companion slap her palm to ger forehead.

"So?"

"So? Uh," he looked around nervously. "I think you should... Stop?"

The second man chuckled at him.

"Who's gonna make me, mage? Are you an elf lover? A little imperial spy?"Said the first man mockingly. "You're just a bitch to the empire. Go back to Cyrodiil, imperial whore."

Marcurio shook with anger. Whore, he may be. Bitch to the empire? Perhaps. But he was not, likely ever, going back to Cyrodiil.

"A hundred gold says I can punch you back where you came from!" He challenged loudly.

The Nords laughed, and the first man raised his fists.

Suddenly a Warhammer's handle was slammed loudly into the stone ground between Marcurio and the Nord, held by a very tired and over it Beo, who looked angrily between the two men"Two hundred. First to touch the ground loses."

The Nord hesitated. "I don't like to hit girls."

"Three hundred."

The man looked back at his friend, before shrugging and agreeing. "Alright. You're on, lady."

Beo handed her Warhammer to Marcurio, and he almost couldn't keep it held up. She then unhooked her gauntlets and tossed them into his arms, wen he dropped the whole load onto stone street. She rolled her eyes.

She squared up, sizing up the Nord man. He put up his hands, gave a smirk behind him, and was immediately met with a fist to the face.

He stumbled backwards and tried to find his footing, which unfortunately for him was foiled as the girl wrapped her armored foot around his ankle, and he hit the floor.

"You're a cheater! I wasn't ready! Cheater!" He yelled at her from the floor.

"Leave the elf alone or expect more."

Beo turned in the direction of the inn, grabbed an awestruck Marcurio by the collar, and marched him inside.

"Sorry," He mumbled, and she shook her head silently.


	6. chapter six

**Guys gals and non-binary pals, buckle up.**

They rented a room, one with two beds, rather than pay for two separate rooms.

They sat on their beds on opposite sides of the room in silence.

"Sorry," Marcurio finally said.

"I heard the first time." Beo retorted.

Silence returned.

Beo sighed. "Just try not to cause any more trouble for me tonight. You'll be out of my service in the morning."

Marcurio felt a twinge in his chest, and was met with the slight urge to cry. It was uncomfortable, and foreign. He couldn't remember ever being upset when his other clients relieved him from duty. In fact it usually made him very happy. But he felt as if he was leaving something unfinished.

He cleared his throat and whispered "Fine."

Beo nodded slowly and sighed once again. "I'm going to get dinner and get drunk." And she left the room, still in armor but leaving behind her hammer.

Marcurio watched her leave before pulling off his boots and laying face-first in his bed. He coughed a bit to try to relax the tight feeling in his throat. It was weird. He felt weird. He had only spent one day around this girl but he had already seen her kill a man, get incredibly lost with him, and fight another man. For him.

He felt himself blush at the though but instantly felt confused about it. She had gotten in a fistfight with a grown man to protect him after he bit off more than he could chew. How like a maiden he was. A proper milk drinker. He let a single tear slide out of his eye as he considered his uselessness.

Useless. Thanks a word he hadn't heard in a while. He hadn't earned his pay in the slightest. How unfulfilling it would be to leave so soon. More tears followed the first. Of course, that girl could obviously handle herself. She didn't really need him for anything. She hired him to show her the way, and he couldn't even do that properly. What a useless messy burden he felt like.

Sometime in the middle of his teary-eyed pity party, he drifted into uneasy sleep. He dreamed of the last time he felt so hopelessly useless. He tossed around as he heard voices yelling at him in his mind.

_"How could you do this? You're a monster! Stay out if here!"_

_"You can't go in anymore! Go home already."_

_"Why don't you study anymore? Don't you know how much we've put into this for you? Why don't you understand what we've done for you?"_

Outside of his dream Marcurio whimpered at the voices he couldn't respond to, until suddenly they stopped. All he could see was a wooden wall, all he could hear was softly clanking metal and far off murmurs. Eventually he realized that was because he was awake. He rolled over to search for the slightly irritating metal sound and say what looked to be a rather inebriated Beo struggling with the clasps on her heavy armor.

He watched her struggle for a few minutes before he got sick of the noise and asked, "Would you like some help?"

Beo jumped slightly and made a tiny squeak. She turned to meet his gaze in the dim room before mumbling, "I can't get the clasps open..."

The mage sighed and stood up, padding over to her. He gently felt over the metal, searching for the clasps.

"You're crying."

Marcurio looked up to find green eyes locked into his. This was the closest to her he had ever been. He stared into her Bright eyes, not sure of what to say.

He felt a hand on his face, holding his cheek, as she stroked the circles under his eyes with her gentle thumb.

"Am not." He finally replied very quietly, he hoped he couldn't see or feel how his face was heating up.

He looked back down to her armor and finally found the opening. He popped the clasp open and gently pulled the heavy chest plate off of her. Underneath she had a thin shirt that did nothing to lessen the burning in Marcurio's face.

He continued to help her out of the metal. All the while she spent her time gently caressing his face, touching his hair, stroking his shoulder.

She's drunk, he thought. Keep it together.

He gentle touches were slowly compelling him to well with tears again. When he had finally gotten her out of her incredibly inconvenient tin can, he stayed kneeled in front of the bed she was now sitting on.

Her hands had traveled back to cupping his face. He laid his own hands over hers and held them there, taking in the nice feeling of a friendly touch. Friendly? He would worry about it later, he decided.

She tilted his head up to look at hers. Their hands slip together off his face and stayed holding each other in her lap. She pulled her face closer, her eyes closing, mouth slightly open.

Marcurio jumped to his feet. "You're drunk."

"No shit" she replied, still leaning forward.

"Stop this. Get some sleep." He pushed her slightly into her bed before returning to his own.

He fell onto the uncomfortable mattress and tried to force his racing mind to calm itself. She's just drunk. it doesn't mean anything. He was to go back to Riften tomorrow and forget that he ever made the mistake of pushing her to hire him, and everything would go back to normal.

He listened to the sounds of gentle breathing across the room. He couldn't go to back to Riften. Not on his own.


End file.
